


Heroines

by colorofmymind



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Always a Girl Oliver, Always a girl Barry, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Betty/Olivia, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-02 22:59:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4077037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorofmymind/pseuds/colorofmymind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A retelling of the Arrow and the Flash universe in which Olivia Queen and Betty Allen are the guardians of their cities. Circumstances may change, decisions may be made differently - but legends will always be legends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heroines

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, there fans of the Flarrow universe! While I am not new to the fandoms, I am realatively new at writing for them, so this is my first attempt at actually writing a chapter story, let alone posting anything for it. I've been thinking about this idea of genderbending some of the Flarrow characters, and it wouldn't stop bugging me so I decided to write it out. 
> 
> As the tags say up above, the end-game pairing is Betty/Olivia because I ship Barry/Oliver in regular canon. However, while one of the tags is Tommy Merlyn/Oliver Queen, I do not ship them in regular canon, I just thought that that would be a result of these different circumstances. (Sorry, Tommy Merlyn/Oliver Queen fans!) I plan to explore the natural progression of relationships up to that end-game. 
> 
> I would really like to hear some of your feedback, and I'm excited to see what you have to say. Enjoy!

It was strange how surreal it felt. Coming back, she knew it was going to be an adjustment. After everything that had happened in those five years, not much could catch off her guard, and by that logic her own house shouldn’t. But that’s just what it was. A house. Even as the black sedan pulled up in front of the mansion, she’d never found the headline _Olivia Queen Returned Home_ so hauntingly hollow than in this moment.

Before entering through those doors again—the first time since that day—her mother reached out to lightly grip her daughter’s hand and gave a brief squeeze, probably out of reassurance. It took every fiber of the restraint she had built up in recent years not to flinch or show a sign of confusion from the loving gesture.

Assessing the interior up and down quickly enough, she determined that nothing major had changed in her absence. Her mother reaffirmed this observation, stating warmly, “Your room is exactly as you left it. I never had the heart to change a thing.”     

“Olivia. It is so very good to see you.” As she set her things from the island down, a vaguely familiar face greeted both her and her mother in what was clearly a British accent. If she wasn’t mistaken—

“It’s Walter. Walter Steele.”

“You remember Walter, your father’s friend from the company,” her mother elaborated. She looked at Olivia pointedly, as if that would encourage her to recall faster. However, she did in fact remember Walter Steele. Neglected memories surged back of her as a child playing in her father’s office, and she saw his face a few times around the corporate building, mostly conversing with her father. Although his presence here was truly unanticipated. Nonetheless, Olivia extended her hand to the man, accompanying it with a subsequent small, but polite, nod.

She bent down to pick up her box from the floor, but her mother made a small surprised noise, which in turn caused Olivia to look sharply back up at her. Her mother seemed to notice though her sudden concern. “Oh, Olivia, I almost forgot to tell you. _Tommy_ called the house saying he wanted to join you for dinner tonight.” Her mother could not be more obvious about her hopes.

Blinking once, she responded with, “I thought that we were having dinner together, mom.”

“Well, I suppose I should say that he’s joining us for dinner. Speaking of people joining us, I believe there’s somebody else,” her mother said as the clattering of footsteps could be heard on the staircase. Those running feet could only belong to one person. Speedy.

“Hey sis,” Olivia greeted, a real smile stretched across her face.

Instant relief and joy crossed Thea’s features. “I knew it. I knew you were alive. I missed you so much,” she choked out clinging onto her older sister in a tight hug. Olivia brought her arms around Thea, holding her steady.

“I guess they didn’t know me as well as you did.”

***

Stepping into her old bedroom, she was assaulted by a wave of nostalgia. Her mother hadn’t been exaggerating; everything was as Olivia had left it. The bookshelves stood upright storing the same untouched novels and first editions, a colony of high heels were tangled up in a bunch nearby an arbitrarily designated corner, her vanity was littered askew with old cosmetic products. It gave her the sense of opening a time capsule. Her eyes scanned the room’s entirety, and they wandered over to the mirror attached to the vanity.

She sat before her own reflection, studying herself, truly noting the physical changes in herself for the first time since she had left Starling. Her face looked primarily unchanged, although any remaining child-like qualities about it had faded. After pulling her long strands of hair in a tight bun, Olivia examined her strong build in more depth than she had ever given time. It so starkly contrasted with her more “girly” body from five years ago, which she compared with past photos of herself with family and friends that also lined the vanity. One in particular caught her attention, and she held it by its frame in her hands. Her and her father stood in front of the garden; her arm was looped through his and they were both beaming and—

Olivia heard footsteps creak outside her door. She turned in the chair, setting the picture back down on the vanity. As the door was opening, she moved some of the other pictures in front of it.

“Remember when we snuck in to see _Titanic_ together? Because I think that movie told everyone why boats suck.” He was trying for humor, obviously. She had been wondering what he had planned on saying to her. He was casually leaning against her doorframe, a small grin played on his lips, and his tactless comment was the only indication that there was a deviance in his usual confidence.

“Tommy,” she said with a dry chuckle, “Tommy Merlyn.”

He stepped forward, and in response she stood from her chair meeting his gaze head on. That possible grin became his full trademark smug smirk. His arms embraced her in a friendly hug, and she could feel the waves of warmth radiating off of him.

“You have no idea how much I missed you. Welcome home, Liv.”

***

Thea turned the rock (or the hosen as Olivia had called it) over in her hands, tracing the carved symbols with her index finger. Olivia had just left with Tommy to go on their tour so she could reacquaint herself with the city. While Thea hadn’t seen Olivia in five years, that didn’t mean that Tommy didn’t still show up at the Queen Mansion, and in that time she’d gotten to know him. She knew what he was trying to do.

She’d been ecstatic when her older sister had first arrived, and the novelty of that hadn’t diminished in any way. Thea could tell, though, the changes in her sister, even if everyone else was willing to ignore them. At dinner last night, when Olivia was cold and indifferent and clearly uncomfortable at the table, that’d struck Thea as odd. Olivia had always been bright and open, well, that was if she was even home and not at the bar with Tommy and Sara. And then when she spoke Russian to one of the maids, that was just bizarre.

But Thea understood the need for change. She had changed drastically from the naïve girl who sat on the steps waiting for her dad to come home from work. Growing up, her family had basically been cut in half. Both her dad and her sister were thought to be gone for good, and her mother ran to Walter for support. Her? She’d had to rely on something stronger, something she knew wouldn’t just abandon her.

Preemptively, Thea pulled out the drugs from her dresser draw and eased the craving that had been itching at her all morning. She relaxed back into her chair, the euphoria setting in. She understood if Olivia needed her distance. It was better that way. Olivia had almost caught her today, and Thea wasn’t going to let anyone rob her of the only thing that kept her standing.

***

Olivia looked out the window of the Mercedes, staring at the expanse of the Glades. One could already tell from a first glance that the place reeked of crime and disorder. The Glades had always been that way.  In her time away though it had worsened at the hands of corrupt officials who thought they had invulnerability and could do whatever they wanted to suit their selfish goals. That sense of invulnerability was an illusion, and it going to shatter for all of them once she carried out her father’s will. For now, she was looking into a possible base of operations, using the guise of touring the city as an opportunity to see whether her father’s old factory was still an option.

“So.” Tommy’s voice snapped her out of her train of thought. “Any reason why you had me drive all the way out here? There’s really not much to look at. I mean, the whole city’s gone to crap, but this has got to be the worst part.”

On an unexpected whim, she replied wittily, “You said we were doing the whole city; I think that includes this too.”

“Whatever. Your choice. Anyway, I was thinking for your welcome home bash—”

Olivia fixed him with an incredulous look, cutting across him with, “My what?”

“You came back from the dead; I think that calls for a party,” he explained with ease and continued, “Just give me a where and when, and I’ll take care of everything else.”

In hindsight, she really should have expected what his immediate priorities would be. “Tommy—,” she’d started, but he still talked over her.

“Seriously, don’t worry about it. I’d have nothing but the best for you, Liv.” To top it all off he flashed her that iconic grin of his again, and in return her lips pressed together in a thin line which she hoped passed off as a genuine smile.

She didn’t say anything in response, instead choosing to continue eyeing up the Glades rather than even glance back at Tommy. It’s not that there was anything wrong with him, or at least there wasn’t any new problem she had to confront about him; he was just the same as he was when she’d left. There was just this air of uncertainty that seemed to linger between the two of them that was so obviously noticeable, and the windows being up in the car only seemed to perpetuate how stifling that air was. When her father’s factory came into in her line of vision, she swore she almost opened the passenger door right then.

“Could you pull over? I think I need some air.”

Tommy looked over at her with concern. While he didn’t make to follow her request, he slowed his speed considerably. At that point, she started wondering whether she should have just searched out her father’s factory on her own time and terms.

“I could turn on the A/C if you need some air,” he offered. She only just suppressed a groan at his obliviousness. However, her pointing out her desire to leave would only increase the awkwardness of this car ride tenfold, if that was even possible. Within a minute though, it seemed that she’d made her intentions quite clear if not verbally then through her rigid posture and downcast eyes. With his eyes, Tommy did a once over of her, and at grasping how uncomfortable they both really felt in that moment, he coughed loudly and conspicuously.

“Yeah, real air’s good too.” Fortunately, Tommy parked in an area where she could readily observe the old factory in full detail, or at least the exterior of it. The site was completely abandoned, and within a few years it probably would have been condemned. She wouldn’t allow that to happen just yet; it still had a purpose to serve.

“A little detour won’t hurt our progress too much. If you still feel up for it, I was thinking we’d have steaks at the palm for lunch. Or sushi, if you’re not too sick of fish. What are you feeling—steaks or sushi?” He rambled on, scratching the back of his head. She shrugged in response, trying to simultaneously configure the most accessible entrance point of the building while also giving the appearance that she was devoting her full attention to him. Although, she did not pull the latter off as successfully because Tommy must have noticed her staring.  

“Oh. Your dad’s factory. You know, he sold the thing just in time. Nothing in the Glades makes any real business anymore.” He paused for a few seconds, but added, “Is this why you had me drive out here?”

Internally, she was slightly taken aback at the perceptiveness of his observation, but Olivia supposed that by now it wasn’t difficult to somewhat pick up on her motives. She had to derail him fast; she couldn’t let little inane curiosities float around his head about this visit.

Olivia finally settled for: “I guess it just brings back memories.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. Not that she really much cared about deception’s effect on her conscious; more or less she was truly indifferent to its moral implications. Yes, it was a choice, but also a necessity. Everyone lied. Going into this she would have to lie to many more people about bigger issues than this.

Realizing though that she had to repair the slight distance between her and Tommy, Olivia decided to shift her focus from the factory and inadvertently within that the mission to this trip’s true purpose: sightseeing the city with Tommy.

She turned to him, fixing him with a smile that was far more convincing than any of her previous ones. In return, he gingerly reciprocated the gesture, and the air between them felt far less tense and assumed and more natural, just like it had been before.

“I think lunch sounds great about now,” Olivia said, causing him to grin even more.

“You know what, I was hoping you’d say that because I was getting a little sick of staying in this dump,” he confessed as he led them back to the Mercedes. She tried to ignore the fact that his hand rested at the small of her back as he urged her forward.

Anytime to process this though was lost to the whirring of a beat up, old engine causing her to turn, and a sharp, stinging pain hit her squarely in the neck from behind. In the distance, she could hear Tommy’s confused and panicked exclamations and could only watch as a bystander in the alley fell victim to an array of bullets from a machine gun. Just before her mind was swallowed by that unwelcome black abyss, she knew she was falling, and maybe it was her drugged imagination that convinced her that she fell into Tommy’s arms.

***

Olivia knew she was dreaming. She had to be. It was one of those unwanted, recurring nightmares. Even when she wasn’t asleep it itched at the back of her mind. Because it wasn’t just a dream, the nightmare had already been realized in reality. It was a memory.

_“Come on, spill, Liv. I want all the details.” Sara sat on the bed, pouring one of the many bottles of champagne they’d found into their glasses on the bedside table. Olivia joined her on the bed, reaching out for one of them, looking distractedly at the bubbles fizzing at the top of her drink. She avoided Sara’s eyes._

_“Do we really have to talk about it now?” She asked, putting on her best fake pout._

_“I thought you said that you needed to get away from home and think things through,” Sara countered. “With me, your best friend.”_

_The billionaire sighed, feeling a bit put out. She didn’t want to talk about it now, not anymore. Talking about it would only make it more real. “I know that’s what I said, but,” Olivia reached for Sara’s glass and placed it into her hands, “I’ve come up with a better plan. How about we get drunk off of our asses and find some hot crew guys?” Her best friend, who was drinking her champagne, stopped to giggle excitedly at the idea._

_“Sounds like something I could go for,” she agreed but added, “What about Tommy though?”_

_Olivia chose to repeat Sara’s words. “What about **Tommy**? He isn’t here; he’ll never know. As long as you don’t tell him.” She fixed the other blonde with the most serious stare she could muster, but it lasted only a few seconds before the two girls burst into a stupid, drunken fit of laughter._

_“Your secret is safe with me.” Sara took another sip of her drink and poked pointedly at her chest. “It’s not like he would really care if he did know; I mean he’s **Tommy**. Who’s he to judge?”_

_“Yeah,” Olivia replied absently, deciding to down the contents of her glass, and set it back on the table. Sara turned more towards her, orienting herself so that she faced the other blonde. Leaning forward, Olivia was embraced by strong arms, and Sara lightly rested her head on the billionaire’s  chest. She returned the gesture, wrapping her arms around the younger girl. For whatever reason, it made her feel better than the alcohol had._

_“You looked kind of depressed. And there is no room for any of that on this trip,” Sara answered her unspoken question. She lifted her head, and Olivia shivered at the loss of contact when Sara withdrew her arms. Looking directly at Olivia again, she added firmly, “Or ever.”_

_There were a lot of things, teasing jokes and remarks, she could have a made to derail the conversation once again. Instead, she replied quietly, “Thanks, Sara.”_

_Lightning struck and thunder boomed again for what had to be the fifth time that night, and Sara dropped her glass in shock of the sudden noise, choosing to cling onto Olivia’s arm._

_“1, 2, 3. It’s getting closer,” Sara teased._

_She chided, “That’s not really scientific, and you’re the one who’s going to college, not me.”_

_“Who ever said science was my major?”_

_Olivia paused for a few moments, then wondered aloud, “What even is your major?”_

_They both laughed at that, but another boom resounded throughout the room, and this time Sara broke into a nervous chuckle._

_“Ok, that one was really close, Liv.”_

_Olivia scoffed skeptically. “Relax, Sara. We’re gonna be fine.”_

_The two looked at the sound of Olivia’s glass tipping over on the table, and then the world flipped upside down. The mattress started to tip as well, and the girls flew off at the force of it, colliding into separate corners of the room. The power shorted out, and Olivia sat up, ignoring the blood running down her temple, blinking stupidly in the dark room, finally catching sight of her best friend._

_“Sara?”  She called out. The blonde stretched out her arm from the floor, and Olivia was so close to just grabbing her hand—_

_A hole ruptured through the wall, the water pouring in, and Sara there and then not, swept away into the waves._

_“Sara!” The water flooded the room, and she flailed her way up the surface. The room was gone, and so was—_

_“SARA! SARA!” She screamed, coughing up the water flooding her mouth whenever she opened it._

_“Olivia!” Someone was calling her name. She swam blindly towards the source of it, finding a raft where her dad and the rest of the crew members were._

_“Dad, Sara’s still out there, we have to—” She was cut off before she could finish as arms grabbed her up and pulled her into the raft._

_Her dad shook his head. “She’s not there.”_

_“No!” Olivia whirled around, watching the Gambit sink into watery depths. Where Sara was. “No!” She croaked out again, burying her face in her father’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably._

_Her dad wrapped her in his arms. “She’s gone.”_

A voice, raspy and taunting, called out her name. Her eyes flew open as her abductors lifted the black bag off of her head, effectively revealing her surroundings to her. She thought she was likely still in the Glades as she took in the abandoned warehouse around her. Another one of the criminals stood off to the side, and the two wore identical red, plastic skull masks to conceal their identities. The one man in front of her repeated her name with more irritation and emphasis than the last time, flashing a Taser in her face. She fixed him a scowl in return, and glanced past him to see Tommy lying face down on a wooden board on the floor. God, she hoped he was still breathing.

The man spoke again, and for long enough that she could tell he was using some kind of voice modulator. These men weren’t amateurs then. Olivia tested the strength of the bonds around her wrists. Correction. They were amateurs.

“Did your father survive that accident?” At her lack of response he added, “I ask the questions, you give me the answers. If you’re a good girl, we can let you and your boyfriend go.”

She glared at him again, more vehemently than the first time. The man turned to his third partner, who stood stationed with a machine gun, and shrugged, silently trying to decide what action he should take next. Within that time, she got to work on the zip tie band around her wrists.

The interrogator turned back sharply, jabbing her chest with the Taser. The volts of electricity lasted only for several seconds, but it was enough to make her breathe harshly against gritted teeth.

“We can play this way too, Ms. Queen. Did he make it to the island? Did he tell you anything?”

Olivia didn’t say anything again, only keeping her glare trained on him. He growled in frustration at her refusal to cooperate, and she couldn’t help but smirk at his building irritation with her. _He deserves that and more_ , she thought to herself. _And he’s going to get it_. Her cheek stung slightly when he backhanded her, but not so much as when he used the Taser again on her stomach.

Her well of patience had dried up, her wrists were almost freed, unbeknownst to their unobservant eyes, and she had hell to give to these criminals. While Olivia received some satisfaction in not responding to this misogynist, stalling him might give her just enough time to finish freeing herself.

She decided on:  “Yes, he did.”

The interrogator nodded his head in a sort of prideful mockery of her. Trying to even her breath, she lowered her head.

“What did he tell you, Ms. Queen?”

She let out a long, soft breath. Her eyes flitted over to Tommy again, but she returned her gaze to the man, lifting up her head. If her stare was enough to kill, he’d already be dead by now.

“He told me I’m going to kill you.”  

There was a beat of silence that hung in the air before all of them turned to the other, starting to laugh in disbelief.

“You’re delusional,” he snapped back at her, “You’re zip-cuffed to that chair.”     

She let out a biting scoff and her lips curved into another smirk. This was too easy.

“Not anymore,” she said as she showed her hands.

His one partner made to hit her over the head with the butt of his gun, but she ducked it, grasping the legs of the chair beneath her and brought it down on his head. Disarming the other one, she took the damn Taser to his throat and shoved him up against her, him acting as a shield when the last one starting firing his gun.

That one took off and she followed suit before her eyes landed back on Tommy. Kneeling down, she first took his pulse. Still breathing. She squeezed his neck in just the right place so that he would regain consciousness. He needed to get out of there. She resumed following the last abductor; she couldn’t afford to lose the trail. That innocent dead man back in the alley needed retribution, and her mission had only just begun. No one could know her secret, and she knew the only way of how to keep one.

 ***

Quentin Lance stared down at the case files on his desk with an intensity they did not exactly warrant. But he needed something to focus on because anytime he looked up from his work his eyes involuntarily found the precinct’s television set blaring Starling Billionaire Found After Five Years as the news headline. And then he would bury his head back down, only feeling more agitated and finding it all the more difficult to concentrate on work with each successive time. The bitter thought flashed through his head that the wrong girl had been found, but he dismissed it quickly, knowing from experience that if he followed down that train of thought again he’d find himself at the bar that night.

He didn’t expect that in just a few short hours later that he’d be standing in the living room of Queen Mansion, listening to Olivia Queen and Tommy Merlyn give their accounts of their kidnapping. There wasn’t anyone they could arrest, however, because all the known abductors were dead—taken out by some “figure in green” as Queen had put it. One day back and she already had to make a show of things.

“So this is your story. A guy in a green hood flew in and single-handedly took out three armed kidnappers. I mean, who is he? Why would he do that?” He posed. This was only getting weirder by the minute.

Olivia leaned back on the couch, giving a relaxed smile which he swore could have dually been interpreted as a smirk sent his way.

“I wouldn’t know, Detective. I think it’s your job to answer those questions. Maybe you should find him and ask,” she answered somewhat cryptically. Queen was always so damn full of herself. He did think, though, there was a strange emphasis she placed on the “him” in that sentence. He turned his attention to the equally spoiled billionaire.

“What about you?  You see the hood guy?” Lance asked him mockingly.

Merlyn glanced down, looking a bit uncertain before answering. “I saw…,” he paused, as if trying to come up with his answer right then and there before settling for, “just movement. Everything blurry. I was kind of out of it.”

“Yeah. It’s funny, isn’t it? One day back, and already somebody’s gunning for you. Aren’t you popular?” The Detective snapped bitterly, staring down at the blonde playgirl.

Of course, her mother came to her precious daughter’s rescue, and broke the tension in the room with, “Were you able to identify the men?” Quentin was just short of rolling his eyes at the obvious diversion.

His partner replied first. “Scrubbed identities, untraceable weapons. These were pros.”

“Yeah,” Lance mused, “Well, they probably figured you’d pay a king’s ransom to get your girl back or a Queen’s ransom, as it were. After all, a parent would do anything to keep their child safe.” He looked to said girl in question, to which she didn’t looked directly at him that time. If he didn’t know her better, he could have sworn that he witnessed a glimmer of regret, or at least discomfort, cross her features for a moment.

“I don’t find your tone appropriate, Detective,” Mrs. Queen sternly said.

Before he could reply, her husband spoke. “If Olivia can think of anything else, she’ll be in touch. Thank you, gentlemen, for coming.”

All Detective Lance could do in that moment was chuckle to himself, less out of anger and more out of bitterness. Whoever thought Queen would be the one to survive a shipwreck, an island, and an abduction. He supposed it just screwed over any previous belief in karma.

“Your luck just never seems to run out, does it?” He thought aloud, before exiting the room. He and Hilton wouldn’t spend too much time on this joke of a case; the way he saw it, it was essentially already closed since there was no threat of these abductors still being on the street, whoever had dealt with them. Queen’s story was straight up bizarre, but he doubted he would have believed much of what she said, whatever story she had decided to make up. That girl was trouble, always had been, and he only really realized it too late.


End file.
